


You Can Be 'Brat' Today

by Sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr



Series: Touchy-Feely, Sometimes Silly, BDSM Stuff [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson/Greg Lestrade, Gags, Handcuffs, Light BDSM, M/M, Some Humor, Spanking, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 05:18:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6642874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock loves being dominated by his lovers, John and Greg. At the same time, John finds he has a taste for being dominated himself. Everyone is happy when Sherlock finds himself in the middle being taken from behind by Greg and his mouth filled by John. His two partners steel a kiss as they give him precisely what he needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Be 'Brat' Today

Greg looked down at his phone as it buzzed. The message that he opened made him smile.

_Our boy needs us. X -J_

Deciding Sally could finish the paperwork, he stacked it neatly, then went and dropped it on her desk. “Cheers,” he said, giving her a little wave and walking away. He didn't bother to listen to her protests.

His phone buzzed again. He looked at it and opened the message.

_Forgot to mention, he's a bit tied up. ;)_

Greg chuckled as he grabbed his coat and skipped down the stairs. “I'm taking the car,” he yelled at the desk. He climbed behind the wheel and flicked the lights on. He'd be going home as fast as he could.

When he arrived at 221, he pulled up and got out, turning off the lights. Inside, he took the seventeen steps up to B two at a time. He burst inside, but the living room was empty. “John, Sherlock?”

“Bedroom,” the doctor called out.

Greg tore off his coat and jacket and tossed them at the sofa, not caring that they ended up on the floor. As he walked through the kitchen, he started unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt. He tugged off his tie and threw it in the same direction his jacket had ended up in.

“Oh dear me, boys,” he said as he pushed the bedroom door open.

John was at the bottom of the bed, arms folded across his chest.

Their mad, gorgeous detective was on his knees with his chest pressed to the bed. Since he was thoroughly trussed and gagged, he couldn't properly greet Greg.

The DI gave John a quizzical look. “Are you planning on keeping him that way?”

John cocked his head to the side. “We don't have to. I was just getting him into the proper headspace.”

The tugging and fighting of the detective suggested he hadn't quite reached it yet.

The DI laughed.

“How was work?” John asked.

Greg shook his head as he moved forward to run his hand down their boy's back. “All paperwork. Boring. As he might say.”

John laughed. “Yeah, the clinic was boring, as well. I need something that's not boring.”

The DI brought his hand back, then walked over to his oldest lover. He held out his hand and John stood. They shared a long, deep kiss. Just as it started to make Greg's blood sing, there was a low growl from where Sherlock waited on the bed. Greg held the kiss as long as he could, going so far as to laugh into John's mouth. “Our brat wants attention.”

“Well naughty brats don't get what they want,” John noted.

The commotion that Sherlock made at this caused the bed to shake. He wriggled and fought so hard that he managed to fall on his side. The older men burst out laughing.

“Definitely a brat,” Greg stated.

A huff made itself known around the gag. Sherlock had made his position quite clear.

John started undressing the DI, feeling rather enthusiastic about it. Having babysat their bound brat for the better part of an hour he was well primed.

“Eager,” Greg whispered, leaning forward and nibbling at the doctor's ear.

“Always,” John responded.

Another muffled grunt from Sherlock had both Doms stepping forward and smacking his arse.

Sherlock immediately quieted, thinking he was about to be the centre of attention. To his surprise, Greg and John just rolled him towards the top of the bed where the DI started helping John out of his clothes this time. This position left him facing the wall. Not his boyfriends. He huffed, but stayed still. He listened as one man undressed the other, enjoying it far too much.

John crowded Greg towards the head of the bed. He pressed him back until the DI was forced to lay back on Sherlock. Greg chuckled, their brat didn't make the best pillow. “I thought we were meant to be teasing him!”

John laughed too. “I know. But you are so much fun.”

Sherlock moaned.

“Don't get jealous, Boy, you know we love you just as much!” The doctor stretched up passed Greg's shoulder and kissed the edge of Sherlock's back. The DI rolled out from under John and turned to face their boy, placing a hand on Sherlock's shoulder.

“I think he likes looking at the wall,” the DI whispered.

“Mmph!”

The older men chuckled. “He's not doing very well at finding his head space, is he?” Greg continued.

“No, he's not,” John agreed. He ran his hand over their brat's plush arse, then gave it a swat that caused the younger man to jolt. He laughed.

“You know we could get up and walk out and there is nothing he could do to stop us.” Greg let that statement hang in the air for a while. “But we won't do that. Will we, babe?”

John chuckled at the low growl Sherlock emitted. “Which one of us is 'babe'?” He asked the DI curiously. “You haven't pulled that one out before. 'Pet', 'brat' and 'boy' are all Sherlock, but I've always been just John.”

Greg shrugged. “Just 'John' is boring. Would you rather I called you 'brat'?”

John didn't answer.

The DI grabbed John by the arms and shoved him down on the bed beside Sherlock, he pinned his arms above him. “You can be brat if you want.”

John's breath caught and his cheeks flushed a bright red. “Greg...”

The DI pressed his lips to John's in a bruising kiss, ignoring the frantic sounds that Sherlock was making. He leaned up and spun the doctor over, pulling his right arm up behind him.

“What do you think, brat?” He purred in his ear. “Is that something you would like?”

“Mmph, mmph, mmph!” Sherlock complained. Neither of his lovers bothered responding.

“Fuck.” John gave a shudder. “Wh... what about 'Lock?”

“He's alright. He can stay there.”

The thrashing beside them continued, but with much more vigour.

“Shut it, boy, I'll get to you in a minute,” he turned his attention back on John. “Well, brat?”

The doctor bit his lip and nodded. “Yeah, maybe this once.”

“Or more than once,” Greg countered. He kissed John's jaw and dragged his lips down along his throat. “Could be fun. Maybe I'll have you suck Sherlock off. I'd like to watch that.”

John thrashed like the younger man was beside them. He wasn't going to make this easy on the eldest, not by a long shot.

Greg chuckled. “Good, I love a bit of rough.”

He bit John at the junction of neck and shoulder, hard. He didn't let up until the doctor stopped his thrashing. “Mm, better. As one of my official toys for the evening, you had best do as I say and my first order to you is to unite that holy terror.” He tilted his head in Sherlock's direction. “And remove his gag. I've changed my mind, you see. I think I want to watch him suck you off.”

John appeared to comply at first. Greg backed up, giving the blond enough room to move. When he had the space he turned and lunged at the older man, knocking him back into the wall. Greg was dazed and had to take a moment to catch his breath. The grin John gave him was broad and completely wicked. Behind the doctor's back, Sherlock managed to roll over... and off the side of the bed.

That gave Greg the opportunity with a distracted John, who was too busy laughing at their very sorry detective on the floor. He pounced. He shoved him into the bed and brought his arms around behind him, cuffing him there. “Let me know if your shoulder gets sore,” he whispered before biting his ear, hard.

It was good, more than good, John thought. It could only have been better if he had managed to get his jeans and pants off earlier. As it was, his cock was uncomfortably confined.

The DI saw his predicament and laughed. He dragged him from the bed and pushed him to the floor beside the detective then he took a seat on the mattress. “You two do make for some comical entertainment.”

That earned Greg a glare from Sherlock and a slightly comic look from John. The doctor didn't know whether to respond with a giggle or more struggling.

“This can go one of two ways. You can both do what you are told right now or I can leave the pair of you to it in this room until you are willing to?”

The men on the floor shared glances. With a sigh from the doctor (the only one who could) they both nodded.

“Good. Now get on your knees,” Greg ordered.

John struggled to his knees, but since he hadn't actually got around to untying Sherlock, the younger man lay there glaring.

Greg nudged the detective with his toe. “Smile, 'Lock. It looks so much better on you than that scowl.” Sherlock didn't change his expression at all. “Come on, brat, if he can do it, you can. Or is our dearest Doctor Watson better than you?” Had the DI not known Sherlock, the resulting glare might have caused him some concern. “You are quite the sight.” Greg slipped from the bed and pulled the detective up so that he was resting on his knees and chest again like he had been on the bed. He pulled him up by the hair and tilted his head back, staring into those off-set eyes. “You just love testing me, don't you?” He reached over to the side unit, grabbing the leash that lay there. He looped it around the cuffs chaining his feet together and then clipped it to the collar John had already buckled around his neck, forcing him upright and his chest thrust outward.

John stole a sidewise, appreciative glance at the brunette. His tongue darted out and swiped over his lower lip.

Of course, Greg noticed. “Yes, he's a pretty thing,” the DI agreed. “He'll be even prettier when I finally get around to fucking him.”

Sherlock tried to smile around the bright red ball gag, but he failed miserably.

“Oh, don't worry, boy,” Greg warned, “that won't be happening for a while yet.”

John turned his head away, trying not to laugh.

“You find that amusing, do you, brat?” Greg asked as he grabbed the doctor by the ear. “I haven't made up my mind what I'm going to do with you. If you don't want to be left out of our little sexcapades, you had best watch yourself.”

“Sorry, sir.”

John suddenly had the Dom's full attention.

“Ooh, say that again.”

John frowned. “Sorry, sir.”

“The way that word sounds coming from you… I thought it sounded gorgeous coming from his deep baritone but you…”

John blushed for the second time that day. This time the blush crept down over his torso. It was Sherlock's turn to sneak a glance. He approved so much of what he saw that he wanted to suck John's cock right then.

Greg stepped between them and pushed his arms out, knocking each one over in the opposite direction. They both grunted, but Sherlock couldn't do much else… literally. He stepped over and this time pulled John's head back by his hair, it wasn't quite as satisfying as Sherlock's but it would suffice. “Say it again.”

“Greg, it's like being in the army all over again.”

The DI smirked. “What sort of things were you seniors making you do?”

John stuck his tongue out in response.

Shaking his head, he leaned in close. “Say. It. Again.”

“Sorry, sir.”

Greg gave a shudder and used his free hand to push his unzipped trousers and pants down, freeing his growing cock. He kicked them off and across the floor to land in an untidy heap. Then without warning he thrust hard and fast into John's mouth.

John choked on the DI's length for a few seconds before he relented and pulled out his already practically solid length for a moment.

“Oh, that's... I like that,” the DI breathed.

John raised an eyebrow. “There's more where that came from, sir.”

“Cheeky! You're as bad as Himself.”

“You put me on the floor in the first place.”

“You make a valid point, Lawyer Watson.”

“You're a copper, you know people don't actually speak to lawyers like that.”

John shrugged. “I can speak to you however I want.”

Sherlock made a strange sound, some kind of laugh that was muffled by the gag. It was a comment on John's words and far from elegant.

“You know, he has a point,” Greg said teasingly. “There are ways to keep you from making those kinds of comments.” Rather than retrieve another gag Greg stepped toward the detective, unbuckled his and wedged it in between John's teeth.

The doctor huffed out an unimpressed breath, it was a new experience for him, being gagged.

Sherlock's lips threatened to curl up into an ill-advised smile, so he bit the inside of his cheek. For him, it was strange not being the one gagged. He wanted nothing more than to look over at the doctor and grin broadly while taking in the no doubt surprised look on his face. He refrained from doing so, though, he just stared at the floor, not letting go of the inside of his cheek.

When Greg quickly pinched one of Sherlock's nipples, the younger man let out a gasp. The DI chuckled. “Not so stoic after all. God, the two of you.” He glanced at John, who was refusing to act like he was getting any attention. Then just like his treatment of the older sub, without warning, thrust hard into Sherlock's mouth, hitting the back of his throat.

The detective gagged and sputtered, much to his chagrin. He wouldn't have, he was certain, if he hadn't been caught off guard. Sherlock was determined to make up for it and tried to swallow Greg down as far as he could. But the DI stopped thrusting he just stood where he was, more than happy to let his cock rest on Sherlock's tongue, after all it wasn't his jaw that would be aching.

“Be right back,” Greg said cheerily as he rose and stepped from the room. He had bought a special lube that provided a slight burning/tingling sensation and he intended to use it on Sherlock. He'd hidden it in the cow skull to keep the detective from finding it.

While he was gone, he grabbed a lump of rope from the kitchen table. He'd have some fun with the two of them. Especially seeing as on the way home he'd only been planning to get Sherlock at his beck and call. Now he had two subs.

As he re-entered the bedroom, he launched the bottle of lube into the air and it landed on the bed. John jerked his head around in surprise, Sherlock couldn't, but he tried, choking himself in the process. The DI laughed. “Oh, Sherlock, I think it's about time you learnt some manners.”

“Greg-”

“Oi!” He held a hand up. “You know the rules.”

He huffed, deep and meaningfully before dropping his head in defeat.

“Spanking time, little boy,” he whispered to the top of Sherlock's curls.

The younger man blushed prettily with excitement, much to Greg's amusement. He undid the detective's bonds and lifted him up over his lap. He'd make that light blush turn crimson.

He cleared his throat. “Private Watson, turn and face us.”

John growled around the gag, for the first time understanding why Sherlock did so. Even so, the doctor shifted around on his knees. At least it afforded him a better view of Sherlock sprawled over the DI's lap. When Greg's hand came down to deliver the first blow, John didn't know whether to look at the brunette's face or bum. He decided on both. Alternating his gaze from one end of the detective to the other. At the same time he found himself wishing once again that he had stripped off his clothes before the DI had got home.

Sherlock turned his head so he could see John. The detective's face was flushed bright red and his eyes were wide and bright. He smirked smugly, knowing John couldn't do a single thing to tell Greg or to tell him off.

All the doctor gave was another growl.

When Sherlock's arse had been turned a uniform shade of red, Greg shook his hand out dramatically. “Ouch, that smarts. My poor hand. Next time, it's definitely the paddle for you.”

“What for?”

Greg shrugged.

“But the paddle hurts a lot more!” Sherlock exclaimed.

“Then make sure you break a bigger rule,” the DI countered.

John groaned around the gag and shook his head - surely Greg hadn't just said that.

The DI caught the doctor's eye and laughed. “I don't think John likes the sound of that.”

“He's the one that has to deal with me on the private cases. Sir,” he added at a further smack.

“Oh, right,” Greg said sarcastically as he dealt him a couple more blows. “As if I don't get called in to help 'fix' things when you pull some stupid stunt. John, we need a bull whip,” the DI joked. He could see the doctor wanted to participate in the conversation so reached down and unbuckled the gag.

“I need to leash him when we are out.”

“That's not fair! You're ganging up on me!” Sherlock complained.

“Just the way you like it.” Greg popped his bum once more, then dumped him on the floor.

Now Sherlock was completely free, he scrambled to his feet and made for the door.

With his hands cuffed, John couldn't be of assistance at all and just watched as the eldest of the three gave chase after the youngest.

It was okay, though. Unbeknownst to either John or Sherlock, Greg had blocked the hall by pulling the laundry hamper into the centre of it. Sherlock tried to hurdle it, but didn't have enough space and crashed into it, sending him into an inelegant sprawl.

The DI stood over him, his arms folded as the corner of his mouth curled up. “You're looking mightily pissed off, you little shit.”

Sherlock stuck out his tongue and kicked. Greg grabbed him nimbly by the ankle. “Oi! Are you wanting that paddling right now?!”

The detective froze. “No!”

“Try again.”

“No, sir! No. I'm sorry, sir. It was just for a laugh.”

Without dropping the slim ankle that he held, the DI turned and dragged Sherlock back into the bedroom. “You were saying about keeping him on a leash?” Greg quipped. He turned to look at the man he had dragged in behind him. “Show me how good you can be and help John onto the bed.”

Eager to not anger either of the men in front of him Sherlock scrambled to his feet and helped John to do the same. When he was on two legs, he scooped him up and dropped him on the bed, letting him bounce a few times.

John... Giggled. “Prat!”

Before the detective could make a snarky retort, Greg tackled him from behind and flattened him against the mattress. “Don't even think about moving, 'Lock!”

Sherlock grunted his agreement as his head was forced into the sheets. Greg groped around with his free hand until he found the bottle of lube and flicked it open. He lifted up and drizzled some along the crack of Sherlock's arse. The detective shivered in anticipation and then felt the tingling of the lube… bollocks!

“Bring your knees up, Sherlock,” Greg patted his arse as he spoke.

Sherlock obeyed and moved into position.

“John,” the DI said “in a minute with your arms still behind you, you're going to fuck his mouth.”

Sherlock let out a shuddering moan when Greg pressed his cock along the crack of his arse and rutted a few times. “Mm, Greg, please.”

“Patience, you,” the DI said as he lined himself up properly and slowly pressed in.

“Tell you what, you swap places with me and then try to be patient!”

Greg smacked him again and again until he grunted and mumbled out an apology.

After Greg was happily seated inside of the brunette, he reached forward and gestured for John to move into position.

Sherlock couldn't help but laugh as John struggled with all his might to get up and onto his knees, let alone in a suitable position to enjoy the younger man's mouth.

Greg gave him a warning thrust. “Behave!” The moment John was close enough, the DI steadied him and helped him get into position. “And, 'Lock, make this good.”

The detective's 'or what?' Comment was interrupted by the doctor's cock.

“Or you don't get to finish at all,” Greg supplied.

Being cuffed as he was, John couldn't tangle his fingers in Sherlock's hair and fuck his mouth as they were both fond of him doing. Instead, he had to be satisfied with the pace the detective set. The problem was, Sherlock knew that. Greg had control of his arse but he was in control of what John got and what he did or did not do.

At John's needy whine, Greg pulled back until just the head of his cock was still seated inside the detective. “I know you're not being a tease, now, are you, boy?”

He waited until John shifted back as much as he could to give his answer. “No, sir.”

“Is that a lie, you brat?”

“I never get to be in control!” Sherlock folded his arms in a huff as he balanced awkwardly on the bed.

“You don't,” thrust, “want,” thrust, “to be in control.” Greg pounded into him relentlessly. “If you did, you would have been by now. Now, take care of John!'

Sherlock growled. “I don't want to!”

Greg leaned over the youngest of the kneeling men and cupped John behind his neck, he drew him in for a lip battering kiss and reached around to press the key to the cuffs into his hand without Sherlock's knowledge. The doctor's lips curved into a smile under the press of Greg's kiss and he nodded almost imperceptibly. It took only a few moments for him to have the cuffs undone. He held his hands in the cuffs until he had the chance to strike.

When the kiss broke off, the doctor grinned at Sherlock. “Get sucking, brat.” Sherlock's eyes went wide in shock, but John didn't pause, just grabbed him by the curls and started thrusting like mad.

Sherlock gagged and choked for the second time that day and he was furious. He was never caught off guard! Never!

Greg and John exchanged heated looks. Having got one over on Sherlock was delicious and added to the enjoyment of the moment.

“You are going to do every. Single. Thing. We say,”

On each word the pair thrusted in at the same time.

Sherlock gagged and shivered, moaned and sucked. He squeezed around Greg's cock and thought he would be happy to die this way. It was even better when the eldest came. Hard and fast inside of him.

“I had not been planning on doing that!”

Sherlock hummed happily around John's cock, hoping he could get a similar response from the doctor. It would be delightful if he could. Greg wasn't having it though. He pulled out quickly and scampered around the bed, he reached between John's legs and pulled his balls down hard.

The doctor grunted, not exactly thrilled at the sensation that pulled him back from the brink, but satisfied to have the moment drawn out. “Jesus! I don't know whe... whether t... to thank you or to kill you, Greg.” He suddenly found his hands wrestled behind him and shoved into the cuffs again. The Dom removed the key and placed it out of reach. “Definitely going to kill you!”

Sherlock went back to using slow teasing motions and little kitten licks. He even went so far as to pull off entirely and nose at John's bollocks.

“You little shit.”

Sherlock chuckled deeply.

“God dammit, 'Lock! Suck me!”

Greg didn't know whether to chuckle or lend a hand in dealing with Sherlock. He decided to let the brunette tease John for just a bit longer before taking action.

Suddenly, Greg pushed John's arse, hard. The result; a fully thrusted cock in Sherlock's mouth. The detective's pleased expression was immediately replaced by surprised gagging sounds, though he got himself quickly under control and swallowed around John's cock.

“That's 3 times today Sherlock,” Greg said tutting. “You really can't control yourself can you? Not quite as good at deducing as you make out.”

The detective chose to ignore the goading in favour of making John come. He hummed, then swallowed repeatedly until he achieved his goal and had the doctor swearing as he spilled down his throat.

John collapsed back in a heap on his cuffed hands. The DI spun him over and released him quickly, rubbing his wrists briefly. Sherlock fell on top of them both like a dead weight.

The doctor threw a leg over the detective and scooted up behind him, spooning him. “Yes, 'Lock, sleep,” John agreed.

Sherlock huffed out a breath, then settled in to enjoy the comfortable presence of his lovers. He'd get his orgasm later, right now, he would just enjoy.


End file.
